


In The Beginning, The Serpent Was Unloved (Or Was He?)

by AnonymousDandelion



Series: And The Serpent Was Beloved (And The Angel Was Oblivious) [1]
Category: Good Omens (Radio), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: (not that aziraphale knows his name yet), Awkward Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Can Sense Love (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Character Study, Crowley's Name is Crawly | Crawley (Good Omens), Falling In Love, First Meetings, Footnotes, M/M, Mentioned Gabriel (Good Omens), Mentioned Uriel (Good Omens), Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Scene: Garden of Eden (Good Omens), Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens), love could be platonic or romantic (ambiguous and irrelevant), or its absence, that doesn't mean he can't be totally clueless about it too, watching the rain, without realizing it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:54:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26078305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousDandelion/pseuds/AnonymousDandelion
Summary: … Oh, Aziraphale realized with a sickening start, and he only just managed to keep from staring, stricken and aghast, at the demon at his side.Oh, no. The thing that’s missing. It’s love. Nobodyloveshim.~ ~ ~A serpent strikes up a conversation with the angel of the Eastern Gate. The angel has thoughts and feelings (but he is also spectacularly self-oblivious).
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: And The Serpent Was Beloved (And The Angel Was Oblivious) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2072637
Comments: 48
Kudos: 248
Collections: Aspec-friendly Good Omens





	In The Beginning, The Serpent Was Unloved (Or Was He?)

**Author's Note:**

> This piece came to be because I got to thinking about a slight twist on the Aziraphale-can-sense-love concept. (It also came to be because, well, I suppose it was really only a matter of time until I tried to write an Eden fic.)
> 
> All dialogue is taken directly from the opening scene of Good Omens, the book. Some other details are, however, drawn from the TV miniseries.

_Something is missing._

The angel of the Eastern Gate had never met a demon before. Not since the War, at least, and, well — even aside from the fact that at that point the rebels hadn’t technically been demons yet, Aziraphale had had other things on his mind at the time[1]. Since then, he’d been in Heaven, where of course there were no demons, and then he’d been assigned to Eden, and there weren’t _supposed_ to be demons here either.

But now here he was, standing on the wall, right next to…

 _Oh._ Remembering that the serpent had said something, and was presumably waiting for a response, the angel gave an embarrassed chuckle. “I’m sorry, what was it you were saying?”

“I _said_ ,” the serpent repeated, “that one went down like a lead balloon.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale voiced the flustered thought out loud this time. Intelligently, he added, “Yes.”

It certainly had gone down. And all of it so sudden, too. One minute everything was fine, the next the sky was a mass of incoming clouds, Adam and Eve were at the gate shivering — wrapped in _fig leaves_ , for goodness’ sake, surely they could have used something warmer! — and then…

Well, then, yes. It really had been quite like a lead balloon, come to think of it. An apt analogy. Not that either lead or balloons had been invented yet[2].

The serpent was talking again. Aziraphale guiltily brought his attention back in time to hear, “… what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil anyway?"

That comment cut a bit too close for comfort to some of Aziraphale’s own thoughts, so he made haste to counter it. “It must be bad,” he pointed out, logically. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have been involved.”

“They just said, ‘Get up there and make some trouble.’” The serpent sounded almost grumpy about it, which Aziraphale could certainly understand, except that…

“Yes, but you’re a demon.” The angel was thinking aloud at least as much as he was speaking for the benefit of his companion. “I’m not sure if it's actually possible for you to do good.” Was it? he wondered. Well, but surely if…

Before his speculation could get out of hand, he hurried to continue. "It's down to your basic, you know, nature,” he explained. An odd, fleeting look passed over the serpent’s face, gone too quickly to be interpreted. Aziraphale hoped it wasn’t an indication that he had hurt the serpent’s feelings. “Nothing personal, you understand," he clarified, because it really wasn’t.

The serpent _was_ , after all, a demon, according to Uriel[3] — who, Aziraphale supposed, was bound to know about such things. Aziraphale himself had been informed in the post-War, pre-Eden Heavenly briefing sessions that demons were most reliably recognized by the stink of Evil. Since at the time he hadn’t quite dared to raise his hand to ask Gabriel what exactly Evil smelled like, Aziraphale was uncertain how to tell whether or not the serpent stunk of it[4]. Still, Uriel was an archangel, which meant they were always both right and Right, which meant the serpent must be a demon.

There was something else about the demon, though, that Aziraphale hadn’t been prepared for — something elusively _wrong,_ something bothersome that had been niggling at the back of the angel’s mind since the moment the serpent slithered up onto the wall beside him. It wasn’t a stench, it wasn’t the hissing, it wasn’t anything visual. It wasn’t anything, really, certainly nothing discernible by any of the physical senses[5], and in any case, it was nothing Aziraphale could pin down. It felt more like an absence than a presence.

Something… something, Aziraphale thought again, was _missing_. He had no idea what, or where it was, or why it wasn’t, but for some reason its lack made his chest ache.

The demon was saying something else, about pantomimes and mountains and plans. Aziraphale glanced around, hoping no one was listening[6]; the serpent’s talk was starting to stray in a dangerously irreverent direction. Before he could go too much farther, Aziraphale cut him off as politely as possible. “Best not to speculate, really. You can't second-guess ineffability, I always say. There's Right, and there's Wrong. If you do Wrong when you're told to do Right, you deserve to be punished.”

That line was taken almost word-for-word from one of Gabriel’s pep talks during the War[7], and Aziraphale was feeling pleased with himself for remembering it so well — until he recalled that he was speaking with someone who _had_ done Wrong, one of the very first Wrongs, and who had been punished for it, and that quoting Gabriel on ineffability probably hadn’t been the most tactful choice for this particular discussion. “Er…” Aziraphale couldn’t think of anything to say that would lessen the awkwardness, so he trailed away.

Silence fell, as did a few more of the first raindrops. Aziraphale found his thoughts drifting, back to the sense of absence that was still niggling in his mind, aching in his chest. What _was_ it?

Another droplet landed, this time on Aziraphale’s eye. The sensation was novel, and not entirely pleasant. The angel blinked the water away, suppressed a sigh, and hoped Adam and Eve were staying safe out there. Not that _he_ was second-guessing ineffability, of course, and the humans’ disobedience was undeniable and he knew they had to be punished… but he couldn’t help but miss them. He missed their energy, he missed their conversation, and he especially missed their love.

He’d never really thought about it until coming to Eden, but Aziraphale could tell when something, or someone, was loved. It was a sense that had nothing to do with any of the physical ones. The humans had both been wreathed in a unique kind of lovedness — Adam with Eve’s love, Eve with Adam’s — their care for each other more vibrant than any other the angel had sensed before or since. Aziraphale missed its warmth, and its light.

Ah, well. No point in dwelling on that, so he shook the thought away. Even if it wasn’t the same as humans, there was still love in Eden, as there was everywhere. Adam and Eve had loved the Garden, every plant and animal in it[8] — and despite the expulsion, Aziraphale could tell they still did. And then, of course, there was the ubiquitous divine love. Even angels were loved by the divine; nothing personal about that kind of love, nothing nearly so rich and colorful as the humans’, but still, it was there, an ever-present reminder that they, like everything else in Creation, were loved. _That_ love was eternal and all-encompassing: Human, aardvark, angel, dandelion, even d—

 _… Oh_ , Aziraphale realized with a sickening start, and he only just managed to keep from staring, stricken and aghast, at the demon at his side. _Oh, no. The thing that’s missing. It’s love. Nobody_ loves _him._

No, no, no, that couldn’t be right, and it definitely couldn’t be Right. Was _that_ what Falling meant? Being cast out of Heaven was one thing, but not being loved by _anyone_ , not even sharing in that overarching lovedness that was shared by every other living thing[9]… Aziraphale hadn’t known it was possible. It couldn’t be. It was too sad, too cruel, too _wrong_ to be Right.

Yet now that he had recognized the absence for what it was, it was as obvious as it was heartbreaking and horrific, and the ache in Aziraphale’s chest was even worse now that he knew the cause.

Abruptly, the serpent broke the silence, and with it Aziraphale’s train of increasingly-distraught thought. “Didn’t you have a flaming sword?”

Oh, dear. Aziraphale tried not to look guilty[10]. “Er.”

“You did!” The demon appeared to be, unfortunately for the angel of the Eastern Gate, rather certain of the memory[11]. “It flamed like anything.”

“Er,” Aziraphale mumbled again, and attempted to think of something more articulate to say. “Well.”

“It looked very impressive, I thought.”

Aziraphale winced. The flaming sword was impressive, true, no question about that. Which only made the Rightness of what he’d done all the more dubious. “Yes, but, well—”

“Lost it, have you?” The serpent’s words were sharp, but the voice held a note of some quality that Aziraphale would have identified as mingled curiosity and mild amusement, except that curiosity was discouraged in Heaven, and humor had only just been invented and hadn’t spread Above yet[12].

“Oh, no!” Aziraphale exclaimed, a bit hurt. He might be incompetent, but he wasn’t quite _that_ careless, at least he didn’t think he was. “No, not exactly lost.” Oh dear, but that didn’t sound much better, did it? “More…” He trailed off, realizing slightly belatedly that the thing he had actually done with the sword wasn’t going to sound like an improvement over losing it.

“Well?” the demon demanded.

Aziraphale sighed and glanced downwards. “If you must know,” he admittedly, wretchedly, “I gave it away.”

He waited for the serpent to laugh at him, or to say something scathing, or to go and tell Uriel[13].

The serpent stared.

"Well,” Aziraphale stammered, feeling the need to defend himself, though he knew he was just putting his foot even deeper in it, “They looked so cold, poor thing, and she’s expecting _already_ , and what with the vicious animals out there and the storm coming up I thought, well, where’s the harm, so I just said, look, if you come back there’s going to be an almighty row, but you might be needing this sword, so here it is, don’t bother to thank me, just do everyone a big favor and don’t let the sun go down on you here…” He rambled to a halt.

The serpent was still gazing at him, not laughing, not taunting, not even talking[14].

Aziraphale stilled his wringing hands and tried to smile, because the alternative would have been to cry, and he hadn’t yet figured out how tears worked. The demon _still_ hadn’t spoken, a fact which the angel found half relieving, half nerve-wracking.

“That _was_ the best course, wasn’t it?” The anxious question slipped out before Aziraphale could stop it — the same question he’d been asking himself ever since seeing Adam and Eve on their way. Whether or not he’d done the Right thing, though, a demon was bound to be the wrong (and, by definition, also the Wrong) person to ask. Aziraphale braced himself to be ridiculed, if not worse.

“I’m not sure it’s actually possible for you to do evil,” said the serpent, and — completely unreasonably, for all he knew Gabriel would tell him demons were not to be trusted — Aziraphale’s heart lifted considerably. The feeling was equal parts surprise, comfort, and something that was both warmer and lighter.

“Oh, I do hope so. I really do hope so. It’s been worrying me all afternoon,” he confessed, smiling his relief… and then he remembered his realization about the other thing that had been worrying him, and his heart sank again. That dreadful, empty, desolate _missingness_ …

But no, Aziraphale must have been mistaken earlier on, because when he returned to that train of thought now, he sensed immediately that there was, after all, a clear halo of lovedness around the demon. Not quite Adam and Eve’s variety of love, and not the ubiquitous divine form either, it was something between those two ends of the spectrum — but it was still, without doubt, a version of love. Aziraphale didn’t know how he could have missed it before, but it was obvious now: Someone, somewhere, loved the serpent.

Well, that was another weight off Aziraphale’s chest, even stronger than the one regarding the sword.

But of course, he reflected, how could it be otherwise? Evil or not, it was inconceivable that nobody would love this remarkable serpent, this demon who made conversation with an angel, and who speculated aloud about questions Aziraphale didn’t dare speculate about even silently, and who not only didn’t mock an angel for giving a flaming sword away, but who actually _reassured_ him.

It was inevitable that somebody loved this serpent, who was interesting and individual and _friendly_ , which was more than Aziraphale could imagine of any celestial being he’d ever met.

The rain was getting harder. Apparently uncomfortable with all the wetness, the serpent shifted position, moving a likely-unconscious inch nearer to the angel. Instinctively, Aziraphale stretched out a sheltering wing. The demon glanced over sideways, seemed to hesitate, then sidled just a bit closer.

Together, they watched the rain.

**Footnotes**

1 Things such as trying to figure out how to convincingly wield a flaming sword without actually hurting anyone, and also without getting hurt himself. This is no easy feat.[return to text]

2 Actually, technically speaking, lead had been invented on the Third Day, along with the rest of Earth’s crust. But it hadn’t been _discovered_ yet, so that didn’t really count.[return to text]

3 Fortunately for Crawly’s corporation’s continued existence, just after pointing the demon out to Aziraphale, and just before heading over to exercise their smiting muscles, Uriel had been summoned to an impromptu meeting with the Almighty. By the time the meeting was over, Crawly was out of sight. Uriel assumed, incorrectly, that the serpent had sensed his danger and gone back Below. (Actually, Crawly was busy taking his first-ever nap.)  
As to whether that bit of divine intervention was a matter of lucky coincidence or one of ineffability — and as to whether there is, in fact, any difference between the two concepts — God alone knows (and isn’t telling).[return to text]

4 Crawly did, but that was mostly because he’d picked it up in the time he’d spent in Hell since sauntering downwards. Secondhand stench, if you will. Incidentally, Evil smelled a lot like brimstone.[return to text]

5 The five senses had only just been invented, and so far Aziraphale was a big fan. “Sight,” “hearing,” “smell,” and “touch” enhanced his perceptions of the world in a wonderful way, he found. He had not yet gotten to experiment with “taste,” but he was looking forward to doing so as soon as he had the chance.[return to text]

6 Ever since the Rebellion and the War, the other Guardians had taken to referencing smiting with a bit too much zest for Aziraphale’s taste. Almost as if they were eager for a chance to try it again. Personally, Aziraphale was of the opinion that smiting was rather needlessly violent, and should at least be saved as a very last resort, but it wasn’t as if anyone was going to listen to his opinion.[return to text]

7 Rousing rallies were not really Gabriel’s strength, but the archangel did his best.[return to text]

8 Except for the mosquito. Certain fundamental survival instincts were built into humanity even before they ate of the Tree of Knowledge.[return to text]

9 Even the mosquito, which just goes to show that the Plan truly is ineffable.[return to text]

10 He would have also tried not to _feel_ guilty, but he’d already tried that. It hadn’t worked.  
As it happened, trying not to look guilty didn’t work either.[return to text]

11 The sight of a flaming sword does have a tendency to be memorable. Especially when the viewer has reason to worry about smitten by one.[return to text]

12 Gabriel and Sandalphon and some of the others would eventually catch on to the idea of jokes, but they never did work out how to make them funny. Practically no one in Heaven could tell the difference anyway, though, so it didn’t matter much.[return to text]

13 If Aziraphale had been any less preoccupied with his own guilt and worries, it would have occurred to him that talking to Uriel would have been a really, really stupid thing for Crawly to do, given how much the other Guardians liked the idea of smiting demons (and especially given the fact that Uriel still had _their_ flaming sword). Aziraphale was, however, preoccupied. [return to text]

14 Crawly was, in fact, silver-tongued serpent or no, struck speechless with awe, astonishment, and something lighter and warmer.[return to text]

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! As always, every comment is a gift and a joy, so if you're thinking of leaving one, please do — in any case, I hope you enjoyed this. :)
> 
> Update: This is now the beginning of a series of scenes set through the ages!


End file.
